


Feel

by GoDownWithThisShip



Series: homo on the range [4]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Dry Humping, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 01:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20684984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoDownWithThisShip/pseuds/GoDownWithThisShip
Summary: John's a dumbshit that bought some shady drugs in San Denis and Javier has given up trying to stop him from being stupid. AKA I just wanted an excuse to write magic sex plant fan fic in the RDR universe so sue me.





	Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I want Jovier content  
My brain: if you want Jovier content you have to make it  
Me: NO MAKE. ONLY READ.
> 
> Hover over the spanish for a translation courtesy of Google dot com.

The tip of Javier’s cigarillo glows orange in the thick darkness of the bayou night. He idly imagines the scaly beasts that must be lurking just below the murky surface of the swamp. It’s the first time the gang has had a place with four walls and a roof to call ‘home’ and yet the place puts him on edge like no other. He has been charged with standing guard at the front of the property and he leans against a tree scanning the marsh for light and movement. 

There’s the snap of a twig from somewhere to his right and his posture stiffens immediately and holds the cigarillo between his teeth and leans down to pick up the rifle resting against his leg. He squints into the darkness and waits with his finger on the trigger. “Who’s there?” He growls around the tobacco. 

“Calm down,” comes the familiar voice. “It’s just me.”

“ _ Jesus _ , John.” Javier relaxes immediately. “You’re asking for a bullet between the eyes sneaking up on a fella like that.”

“Nice to see you too,” John laughs and steps into Javier’s field of vision. “Never understood why you insist on doin’ this in the dark.”

Javier shrugs. “They can’t shoot what they can’t see.”

“Fair enough.” The moonlight casts shadows across John’s face and Javier traces the lines of his scars with his eyes. “Mind if I take a load off?” John asks and without waiting for Javier’s reply he sinks to the ground next to him and rests his back against the tree’s wide trunk. 

“We’re sitting on a whole acre out here why do you have to bother me?” Javier grumbles but there’s no malice in his words. He sinks down next to John and rests the rifle across his lap. 

“Haven’t bothered you in a minute,” John replies as he fumbles around in his pockets and produces a single cigarette that has the least elegant roll Javier has ever seen.

Javier scrunches his nose but can’t help but laugh. “I keep telling you, John. You can  _ buy  _ cigarettes. You don’t have to subject yourself to whatever the hell that is.” He gestures to the Frankenstein’s monster clutched between John’s fingers. 

“This ain’t your run o’ the mill cigarette though, amigo _ , _ ” John replies smugly. “Can’t buy this in no general store.”

Javier rolls his eyes before taking a drag from his cigarillo. “Whatever you say,  _ amigo _ .”

“Got a light?” John asks around the sloppily wrapped abomination between his lips.

Javier shakes his head and digs around in his own pockets for a matchbook. He produces one branded with the name of some saloon he can’t remember visiting. He strikes it and for a brief moment the two of them are illuminated in the soft, orange glow. John leans in close to light the tip of his cigarette and Javier tries not to notice how his dark eyes glitter and the way his lips curve. He’s so close that Javier can feel the warmth radiating off his body and smell the bad whiskey on his breath. 

And then John takes a long drag and leans back to blow the smoke up toward the stars. Javier almost wants to grab him and pull him back but instead he slumps back against the tree and flicks his wrist to extinguish the match and toss it aside. “Worth it?” He can’t hide his smile when John begins to cough. John doubles over and Javier claps him on the back a few times. “You’re acting like you’ve never tasted tobacco before.”

When he’s done hacking up his lungs he falls back against the tree. “This ain’t tobacco.” 

Javier frowns. “What the hell is it?”

John shrugs. “Guy I bought it from in San Denis just said it’d make me feel real nice.”

Javier’s heart begins racing in his chest. “So you’re telling me you’re smoking this... _ mierda _ you got off some... _ puto  _ in San Denis?  Sabes lo peligroso que es eso?”

“Hey, it’s alright. Figured it wouldn’t kill me,” John’s voice is raspy from the garbage he has put in his body. “Killing customers would be bad for his business, after all.”

Javier takes a few deep breaths to calm himself before snubbing out his cigarillo in the dirt next to him. This isn’t the first stupid thing John has done and it sure as hell will not be the last. “How do you feel?”

John pauses for a second. “Well I ain’t dead that’s for sure.”

Javier shakes his head because this man is going to be the death of him. Every time he has to witness John doing something stupid he loses at least five years off his life. And John takes another drag from the mystery cigarette and Javier nearly loses it again before throwing up his hands in defeat. “You wanna kill yourself? Be my guest. But I’m making sure my last words to you are ‘I told you so’.”

“Make sure ya say it in Spanish,” John teases. “You know how much I like the sound of them words.” The last words of his sentence are choked off and he ends up having another coughing fit.

“Vete al mierda.”

John gives him that stupid grin and Javier has to look away. “See. Music to my ears.”

This gets Javier to laugh and he pauses for a minute before facing John again. “So, how’s it feel?”

“Feels…” John chews on his lower lip for a moment. “Like I got ripped off. This is just tobacco that tastes like a horse’s ass!”

Javier bites back a witty remark and instead reaches for the abomination in John’s hand. “Lemme try.”

John nods and their fingers brush together for a split second as John hands it over. The smell coming off the thing almost registers as industrial...like a factory. He puts the end to his lips and takes a slow drag the acrid smoke burning his throat immediately. The coughing starts from the bottom of his lungs and ending up spat from his mouth. “You weren’t kidding,” he finally manages. 

“Doubt I’m getting a refund,” John grumbles. Javier offers it back to him but he shakes his head and Javier ends up grinding it into the dirt next to the remains of his cigarillo. They sit there listening to far off crickets and watching yellow lightning bugs hover inches off the ground. 

John starts idly running his hand over the damp grass between them. He hums quietly and his head falls back against the tree and his eyes flutter shut. The grass...Javier experimentally runs his fingers over the patch next to him. It feels like he was feeling it for the first time. Soft, velvety, a bit wet. “John?” The thought Javier starts evaporates and he turns to face the other man. John is running both palms over his thighs. “What’re you doing?”

John doesn’t open his eyes but he chuckles. “Feels good.”

“Huh.” It’s as though Javier’s thoughts are churning through honey. Everything is sticky, slow, and sweet. Before he can put two words together John’s hand finds his own and for a second he thinks the combination of smooth, warm, and rough might kill him.

“Feel.” It’s an invitation and John guides his hand to rest on his thigh. Javier swears he can feel every thread in the fabric as he runs his fingers over it. He can feel the subtle swell of muscle. He can feel blood rushing through veins. He can feel heat. Instinctively his fingers tighten and grip John’s thigh. 

John squirms, his legs falling open, one knee knocking into Javier’s as he sucks a breath in between clenched teeth. “Sorry,” Javier murmurs and moves to retract his hand but John’s hand wraps around his wrist. 

“Don’t.” Javier realizes how close they’re sitting when he feels John’s hot breath on his cheek. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Javier hesitates because through the sweet fog he realizes. “I think it worked.”

“What?” John’s eyes flutter open and it takes him a moment to register what Javier meant and he laughed a low, throaty noise that sent vibrations through Javier’s body. “Oh. Huh. Maybe.”

“You got any other reason for wanting me to put my hands on you?” Javier says shaking his head, trying to clear the persistent floaty feeling taking over him. 

“I always want you to put your hands on me.” The confession is quiet and starts a smouldering fire in the pit of Javier’s stomach.

“Callate.”

John sits up suddenly and presses the heel of his hand to temple with eyes squeezed shut as though he’s fighting off a migraine. “I’ve fucked up, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t think straight. God, why can’t I think?”

Javier turns to face John and places a hand on either of his shoulders as if to steady him. John sucks in a breath and Javier realizes that  _ wow _ ...John’s shirt is much softer than his pants. He traces small circles with the pad of his thumb over the fabric and finds the hard line of John’s collarbone beneath it. He follows it with his fingertips until fabric turns to skin and John’s breath hitches. And he traces over the exposed skin at John’s chest waiting to be stopped, waiting for John to say something. But he doesn’t. Instead John’s eyes open and he reaches out to grab Javier’s waist and he pulls him closer. 

He needs more. Javier pushes John back into the tree trunk and slides a leg over John’s lap. “Stop me.” It’s almost a plea.

John grips Javier’s hips and pulls them flush together. “No.” Javier can feel the press of John’s cock through their pants. He realizes he’s hard too and barely has time to wonder when  _ that  _ happened before John is pulling at his hips, grinding them together.

Javier’s ragged moan sounds far away to his own ears and he can feel John’s own noises vibrating in his chest. “Such a bad idea,” Javier murmurs.

“Why?” John’s half-lidded, dark eyes are fixed on Javier and he finds it hard to think.

“I don’t know,” Javier replies with a laugh. “I don’t know!”

“God,” John’s eyes flutter shut again and he leans back. “Your laugh. ‘S like music, y’know?”

It’s as though John can’t keep his hands still. Both palms slide over Javier’s hips and find where his shirt is tucked into his pants. John’s nimble fingers pull Javier’s shirt until it’s untucked and slide under the fabric. John groans when he feels the heat of Javier’s skin and Javier shudders. It was too much and not enough at the same time. 

Javier rolls his hips experimentally and John hums appreciatively. “Gotta get this off ya,” John mutters as he removes his hands and starts pulling at the buttons of Javier’s shirt. Normally Javier would protest to having his shirt dirtied but he was too busy trying to get John’s shirt off that he didn’t mind having his own tossed aside onto the ground. 

The feeling of John’s chest pressed to his as John raked his dull fingernails up and down his back makes Javier want to cry out. Instead he just grips John’s shoulder and bites his lip. “Kiss me.” John’s request makes Javier stop and he looks down at the man beneath him. John looks wrecked. His lower lip is red and swollen and Javier wants to know what it tastes like. It turns out that it tastes overwhelmingly like the garbage the two had smoked but underneath there’s a hint of whiskey and something that is probably uniquely John.

John’s lips part and Javier licks into his mouth, gripping John’s jaw with one hand and using the other for leverage against the tree. There is rough slide of fabric against his cock, the heat of John’s skin on his, the scratch of stubble, the sting of John’s teeth against his lips. Javier can’t differentiate between the sensations and they all blur into one and it feels like every nerve ending in his body is firing at once. 

He realizes he has stopped kissing John and he’s murmuring against John’s lips. “John.” Over and over. 

John’s hand tangles in his hair, fingers working it out of its ponytail and strands fall into his face. “So good. So  _ fucking  _ good.”

And for the first time in probably a decade he comes in his pants. He doesn’t even care. The shockwaves of pleasure rock through him and he realizes he isn’t the only one moaning. John has joined him, eyes squeezed shut, and holding onto Javier’s hips as if they were a lifeline. He’s close, grinding into Javier with an intensity that forces Javier to shiver and gasp with over stimulation. “Come on.” Javier leans down to whisper into John’s ear. “Come for me, John.” John stiffens and presses his face into Javier’s neck to stifle his noises. 

They stay like that for a few moments, each practically panting. This is something that needs to be talked about and suddenly Javier does not have the energy to speak. He eases back to look at the other man and the two stare at each other. The only noises now come from the far off crickets. 

To Javier’s surprise it’s John who breaks the silence. “I meant everything I said.” Javier can’t remember him ever sounding so small...almost scared. 

He cups John’s scarred cheek in his hand and John leans into the touch. “I’ve thought about what it would be like to touch you a thousand different times,” he whispers. “But I would be a liar if I said I’d imagined it like that.”

This gets John to crack a smile. “Good or bad?”

Javier rolls his eyes. “I think you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> [me tumblr](http://hoseawasright.tumblr.com)
> 
> This fic literally had me googling when Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein and it was published in 1818 sldkfjghewlrj 
> 
> Also if I messed up the spanish I’m sorry pls leave a comment and I’ll correct it. I watched a lot of Javier cutscenes because of course I did and from what I saw it seeemed like when he’s chilling his english is A+ (we stan a smart bilingual king) but if he gets worked up he ends up peppering in more spanish and I get the logique behind that i guess.


End file.
